


observations of sonya rostova

by calibriluu



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Fluff, Tea, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 05:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12474508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calibriluu/pseuds/calibriluu
Summary: Sonya is an effing stalker, much like I am. AKA a slight crackfic set in a completely ambiguous time period.





	observations of sonya rostova

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever choose between MaryNat or Sonyamary? Probably not.

Natasha violently coughs again near the fire in the living room, where Mary is sitting with her. 

She watches as Mary quickly checks up on her, then relaxes and cuddles her once more.

Sonya breaths out a sigh from the stairs. She's completely grateful that the Bolkonsky decided to come over and take care of Natasha for while.

She also suspects there's something in between them.

It's not too hard to figure out, at least for Sonya. After the initial argument at Bald Hills, they'd slowly, but surely, reconciled and often wrote adoring letters to one another. Often was actually quite the understatement.

Mary gently helps her drink some tea as she is seized with another coughing fit. Very badly, Sonya wants to rush to Natasha but had agreed with Mary that she'd take a break. Not that she doubts her skills, just that it was embedded into her mind to watch over her for Natasha has proven to be very naïve.

The way they talked to each other, touched and kissed and hugged only proved Sonya's theory even more.

Sonya is in the kitchen now, with a better view and hearing of what is happening. Under the guise of preparing tea for the three of them, she listens to the conversation.

Mary murmured something too quietly to hear and earned a soft giggle from Natasha. A glow of joy lit up inside Sonya, as in the past week since the accident Natasha had barely spoken a word, much less smile.

It was nearly impossible to contain the immense happiness coming from Sonya as she observed Mary encompass Natasha in  waves of affection. She couldn't quite name the feeling, but it was something she hadn't felt much before.

Fingers weaved in Natasha's hair, visibly relaxing her. They were softly talking and Sonya strained to hear it.

"...go with Anatole?" Natasha mumbled into Mary's shoulder.

"It's alright...come to visit your household."

"It's actually Marya's."

"Oh Natasha, you know what I mean."

"I can't believe you really meant it when you said you loved me," she said out of the blue, causing Mary to freeze and whip her head around in surprise only to see Sonya eavesdropping on them.

Sputtering and trying not disturb Natasha, she started shooting panicked looks at Sonya but the latter could only mouth that Mary should reply. She ducked behind the counter, peeking over a little to see what would happen.

"W-w-well, I mean, uh, I'm not sure I actually said that directly but whatever you think of it-"

"It's okay, I love you too Mary." Natasha snuggled closer, leaning her head onto Mary's chest as Mary flailed for a response.

A declaration of love was the only thing Sonya could name a thing like this. Perhaps she was being too dramatic, but she was only grateful that this was nothing like the elopement incident, where Anatole Kuragin had practically forced the words from Natasha's mouth.

Here, the fire was crackling and the house was filled with a warmth that told nothing of what had taken place before. She was safe from the claws of death and curled in the arms of someone she cared deeply about.

To Sonya, the awkwardness between the two was quite endearing. Every time they interacted, it was a flurry of stumbling over compliments and shoulders touching.

Sonya felt a tug at her heart at the sight of them and wished that perhaps one day, she could care about someone other than Natasha. Maybe she'll meet the person of her dreams, someone other than the one stretching far and back away into the mirror.

Specifially, the woman of her dreams.

Lost in thought, they've snoozed off by now and Sonya realized that the Dragon of Moscow could come back any time soon, very soon actually.

And she hadn't even finished making the tea.

**Author's Note:**

> because the tea is the MOST important part of this. 
> 
> Comments bless my soul.


End file.
